Hydromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 4)

“Hold me,” she whispered.

His arms relaxed, and he eased his hold. They were still locked together by his bite. He wasn’t drinking, but she wished he would.

“Love me, Tim. I’ve missed your kiss.”

He cushioned her head with his hands as he dragged her down. The minute they hit the floor, his hands were all over her. He fumbled with the hem of her tank top, pushing the fabric up with one hand while searching for the zipper of her pants with the other. At long last, he pulled his teeth from her skin. He sucked at his mark before laving it with his tongue. While he covered her neck in kisses, she undid the buckle of his belt. Letting go of her, he pulled off his jacket with jerky movements.

“I want you,” she said. It was the one truth she could offer him.

“I need you.”

He nipped at her lip, making a small, painless cut with his teeth, and lapped up the drop of blood eagerly.

She wanted all of him, no matter the consequences. “Bite me. Again.”

He groaned. “Too soon. I don’t want to risk turning you.” He pushed her pants over her hips and cupped her sex possessively. “Just let me fuck you for now. In every possible way. Your defiant mouth, your perfect breasts, and then your tight pussy.”

She almost came just from listening to him. A cry escaped her lips when he pushed aside the elastic of her thong and slipped a finger inside.

“I’m going to make you come with my fingers, my tongue, my teeth, and then with my cock. When I’m done with you, you’re going to be too weak to walk. Then I’ll take my time loving you all night long.”

Shuddering in his grip, she gave herself over to his fantasy and allowed the ecstasy she felt in his arms to run havoc with her body. Only he existed, only the pleasure he gave her. She had no name for it. Fear at the enormity of her emotions engulfed her.

“What is this, Tim? What’s happening to us?”

“It’s only love, baby girl. Don’t be afraid. Just let it run its course.”

The door opened, banging against the wall. Both of them jerked their heads toward the intruder. Cesar stood in the frame, gaping. Tim still had one hand in her panties and was palming her breast with the other. She had her fingers all over his crotch.

“Fuck.” Cesar flushed. He turned his face away quickly, fixing his gaze on the wall. “Sorry. I was so preoccupied, I didn’t think…”

“What is it?” Tim asked tightly, hiding her body with his own.

“Ilano is downstairs.”

“Shit.” Tim pulled his hand from her underwear. “Keep him in the lounge.”

Without looking back at them, Cesar stepped into the hallway and closed the door.

Tim sat up, pulling her with him. “How do you feel?”

“Fine. Like my old self.” She gave a shaky laugh. “A bit unfulfilled.”

He kissed her lips before pulling her to her feet and straightening her clothes. “Let me do the talking.”

Tim seemed as nervous as hell. Whatever was waiting downstairs, was bad.

Chapter 16

Except for his messy hair, Tim looked perfectly composed when he entered the formal lounge with Maya in tow. Ilano stood by a window, flanked by Victor and Eduardo, a glass with red liquid in his hand. It looked like blood. Frida was pouring more of it from a crystal decanter on the liquor tray. She was still dressed in the ass-hugging white skirt and short jacket she’d worn to the office. Lee stood to the side, his arms crossed. Cesar came in after Maya and Tim and closed the door. The atmosphere was thick with tension.

“Ilano.” Tim stepped forward to shake the older man’s hand. “To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?”

Ilano was a head taller than Tim, his shoulders broader but less defined.

“A pleasure?” Ilano tilted his head. “I’ve returned to this backward dump of a town three times in one month. It’s a far way to travel, and as you know, I don’t like being away from home.” He sneered. “I’d hardly call it a pleasure.”

Tim didn’t bat an eye. His hand was steady when he took the glass Frida offered him. “Let’s talk about this. Have a seat.”

“Frida, dear,” Ilano said, “my men need food. How about some snacks?”

She straightened with a stiff back, but Tim looked at her with a clear message in his eyes.

“Gentlemen,” she said in a flat voice, “excuse me,” and left the room.

Ilano looked Maya up and down. “Miss Martin.” His nostrils flared. “I see Tim has finally claimed you.”

Apparently satisfied that Ilano had noted his marks, Tim kissed her forehead and said, “Maya, Frida may need a hand.”

“No.” Ilano held up his palm. “Let the lady stay.”

For the first time, Tim’s demeanor slipped. His eyes flared and his jaw set in a hard line. “If this is the business I assume it is, Maya doesn’t need to be here.”